


Doctor, Meet Malex

by UndomesticatedEquines



Series: Kyle is a Good Bro [3]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, One fill-in-the-gap reference to 2x06 incident, POV Kyle Valenti, POV Michael Guerin, References to Don't Ask Don't Tell, References to Jesse Manes the War Crime, References to Michael's crippling abandonment issues, References to canonical violence, References to food scarcity, References to sleep deprivation, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29795118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndomesticatedEquines/pseuds/UndomesticatedEquines
Summary: Kyle tried so hard not to get involved with his friends’ love lives. He’d given dating advice to friends before, but no one had the same level of messed up relationships as Team Alien. When he finds out more of the story of Alex and Michael, can he really resist learning more?
Relationships: Alex Manes & Kyle Valenti, Forrest Long/Alex Manes, Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin, Max Evans/Liz Ortecho, Michael Guerin & Kyle Valenti, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Past/referenced relationships - Relationship
Series: Kyle is a Good Bro [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066322
Comments: 13
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The hardest part about this one was figuring out ways to get Alex and Michael-- especially Michael, because he still thinks he hates Kyle-- to open up about themselves and their relationship. 
> 
> This part is rather angsty, because it is Kyle getting up to speed about Malex, which at the end of season two is all angst. But Kyle's a doctor. Next part in the series will be him trying to do something about it. So I promise, good feels coming. In the meantime, have feels.

Kyle tried so hard not to get involved with his friends’ love lives. He’d given dating advice to friends before. Friends from college, or med school, or even coworkers. Good advice, even, usually on the order of “talk to her” or “make sure he knows how you feel.” For most people, most relationships, honesty and communication were enough. Frankly, it was probably what was needed here. But there’s a few hard conversations and then there’s lifetimes of secrets and fears and desires. Absolutely no one had the same level of messed up relationships as Team Alien.

Take Liz and Max. At the surface, Max had been in love with her for almost twenty years, had been her friend, dedicated to her interests even as they misaligned with his (seriously, Science Club, Max?), pining after her as she dated Kyle. When Kyle and Liz had broken up, they’d had a moment, but then tragedy struck and she had to leave town. Max had pined after her as the one that got away, and she’d refused to look back. Ten years later, they reunite, and try to find their footing. That’s a Hallmark movie right there.

But the surface is always lacking. And the highlight reel of the missing parts? Sister murderer, sister murdered. Both their families destroyed in the cover-up. Lies and secrets that only came out in the slowest, most painful way possible. Body-snatching alien murderer. Death via sister resurrection. Zombie Max haunting Rosa’s dreams. Doctor Frankensteining it. Another resurrection. Secret research that challenged the other’s life outside captivity and torture. Literal terrorist attack. Exploding the other’s life’s work.

Both of them came from a good place, Kyle knew, but both executed their actions in the worst possible ways. They had spoken, discussed their conflicting hopes and fears in a mature and constructive way, but when push came to shove, they hadn’t acted as a team. A fire was lit around their relationship, and it had blown up. At this point, that wasn’t even a metaphor. That’s not a Hallmark movie; that’s some CW nonsense right there.

Kyle knew the details, too, every twist and turn, whether he wanted to or not. Liz had leaned on him while Max was dead and Max would drunkenly, literally, lean on him now that Liz was gone. How had _Kyle_ of all people become their relationship confidant? He was not an objective third party. He was Liz’s ex-boyfriend, someone whose girlfriend Liz had saved with her unethical research, someone who was also afraid of alien discovery due to his pod-infected, resurrected half-sister. Someone whose feelings for Liz, it turns out, had not completed extinguished in the intervening years. Although that last part he had worked through pretty well, if he did say so himself.

That much history, that many charged emotions, hopes, fears, loves, that’s not a New Year’s Resolution of “I’ll try to be more cognizant of your needs.” He didn’t know what that was. They didn’t make decisions together, even when they _were_ together, that’s all he knew.

Kyle thought they were the most insane love story in town. He was wrong.

Kyle didn’t know much about the Alex/Guerin/Maria drama, but that was to be expected. Alex didn’t talk about himself, Guerin was just starting to talk to him in more than monosyllables, and Kyle’s relationship with Maria was all medical-based. 

Regardless, of this definitely-not-Hallmark movie, Kyle knew the broad strokes. Alex and Guerin were a secret thing at some point. Ten years after they’d broken up, Alex found out Guerin was an alien, that his dad was targeting him, that his family had tortured Guerin’s mother for decades, and then said mother blew up. Alex was living with the guilt of everything his family had done to Guerin, a man he still cared about. Whatever “clean break” most people thought of was not possible in a town this small, with secrets this big. And since that web was still tangled, when Guerin had started dating Alex’s best friend, it had hit harder than he wanted to show. When Alex had started dating Forrest, it had hit Guerin harder than _he_ wanted to show. Neither had hit too hard, though—Kyle didn’t think anyone was self-sacrificing enough to actively help two people get together while still in love with one of them. Just hard enough to make it difficult to navigate, hence Kyle’s supervisory role in their weekly hangs.

Which, as it turns out, just went to show what Kyle knew.

Kyle and Alex spent most of the night nursing beers on Alex’s patio. After taking Max’s “check in everything, under everything, behind everything,” to heart, Kyle had found another letter his dad had written tucked away behind a bookshelf in his childhood home. Since Alex had moved the computer setup from the Project Shepherd bunker— deemed unsafe with Flint in town— and upgraded his security, he went to Alex’s place. Alex had taken a look at it and sighed, went to his office, and scanned the sheet, and started the program. The result had been a very unhelpful amount of gibberish and the word “Jones.” Alex started running the gibberish through a series of algorithms to see if they corresponded to anything around, and they had gotten beers while waiting.

Waiting, in this case, turned into Kyle expressing displeasure about discovering more secrets his father had kept, which had turned into discussing both of their fathers and their joint work in Caulfield prison. Which turned into discussing the day they went to Caulfield. The day they discovered their fathers were not the men they thought they were.

“Which is impressive, if you think about it,” Alex said, looking vaguely in the direction of his bottle. “Because I always knew my father was a monster. I just thought he stopped at domestic abuse and attacking queer people. Never did I imagine he was committing war crimes.”

“Fuck your dad,” Kyle said. “He would’ve been hanged at Nuremburg.”

“He really would’ve, wouldn’t he?” Alex laughed, a sad, bitter sound.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“I wish we could’ve gotten them out,” Kyle said. “I can’t… When Guerin said we needed to get them out of there, I hesitated. I don’t regret that; prolonged isolation, torture— they couldn’t just be let out into society. They were so confused. The one that killed my dad, he didn’t even notice when he did it, he’d dissociated so badly. But… They didn’t deserve what happened to them. They deserved to see some part of this planet that wasn’t so… horrible.”

Alex closed his eyes in response.

“And god, I wish… I wish my dad wasn’t involved,” Kyle said.

Alex squeezed his eyes, brow furrowed. “I wish,” he started hoarsely, then cleared his throat. “I wish it had never happened. To any of them. And I wish Guerin never had to see it.”

Kyle thought of Guerin on the ride back, tears streaming down his face, unnoticed. How his fingers whitened where he’d clung to Alex’s arm. How he’d been unable to breathe, unable to sit still. How they’d had to pull over so he could puke. How it’d taken both of them to get him standing again after he did. How they’d wrapped him in a blanket to keep his normally-feverish skin warm.

How his eyes had shown when he whispered, like it was the only breath of air he’d ever gotten, _She loved me_.

“I’m glad he met his mom,” Kyle compromised, then closed his eyes, trying to find his calm.

There was a pause. “I almost couldn’t get him out,” Alex whispered.

Kyle’s eyes flew open. “What?”

“He spent his entire life looking for her. Waiting for her.” Alex’s voice was hoarse again, but he didn’t clear it. “Hoping there was someone out there who cared about him. And he found her. He wasn’t going to leave her.”

Kyle fell silent. Alex opened up so rarely, he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and have him clam up again.

“He was so confused. He knew he knew her, but he didn’t know how or why. He’s always so confused when he cares, like he doesn’t think he should. But he wasn’t going to just leave her. He couldn’t.” Alex looked up at him, eyes wet. When he continued, his voice was quiet, like a confession. “It’s not in him to leave someone he loves.”

Kyle had assumed Alex had grabbed the alien and ran. He started to rethink.

Alex looked away. “He almost died in there. I don’t think he wanted to. But he would’ve, without thinking. For them. For her. And I… I couldn’t leave him.” He paused. “I’d left him behind so many times before, but he was always fine.” His voice started rising. “He was _safe_. If I was gone, if I left, he was _safe_. Dad wouldn’t—Dad wouldn’t hurt him anymore.”

Kyle’s estimated start date of Alex/Guerin got further back the longer Alex talked. His mind struggled to catch up, stuck on the ‘anymore,’ but Alex was still ranting.

“But he was. All that time, my dad was targeting him, torturing his family, and Guerin—Guerin was torturing him _self_.” Alex’s tone was stronger, his voice breaking. “And I didn’t _know_. Every time, I just fucked him and left. I swore I wouldn’t, but I always did. One time I didn’t have time to pay for the motel before I left, so I left money on the bedside table. No wonder he thought—” he choked off.

Kyle looked at his friend, really looked at him for the first time since he’d arrived. Alex’s eyes were bloodshot and sunken, his hair limp, his cheekbones starker. Exhaustion quivered through every inch of his body. He’d been fine last week, Kyle knew. Hadn’t he?

“His mom told him she loved him. I wonder… I wonder if anyone else had ever told him that. Max and Isobel must’ve, right?” Alex’s eyes were full, now. “I never told him. He never told me. We just… hoped. He told me he didn’t love me. To try to get me to leave. But he always was a miserable liar.” He exhaled into a short-lived sad smile. “I did try, after that. I wanted to be there for him. But he couldn’t trust that. And why should he? He was barely hanging on, I knew that.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve seen a lot of pain in his eyes before. Grief, guilt, regret. Love. But I’d never seen them empty, like they were after Max died. I just wanted to help him. However I could. However he needed.”

Alex fell silent, motionless. Kyle stared, processing. He ran through possible responses in his head. After perhaps three minutes of silence, he ventured, “How long have you loved him?”

“Twelve years,” Alex said.

“How long has he loved you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he does. I know he loved me.”

Kyle wanted desperately to ask if he’d been sleeping, if he’d talked to Guerin, if there’d been a fight with Forrest. He wanted to ask about his full history with Guerin, since clearly there was a lot Kyle didn’t know. Why, if he was still in love with the man, had he championed the relationship with Maria? But there was a spell around them, letting them talk, letting Alex trust him as he hadn’t since they were kids, and inviting the rest of the world in would break it. So instead, he asked, “Do you want to be with him?”

“I just want him to be happy. And _safe_.”

“How can I help?”

Alex opened his eyes finally, not looking at him. “I don’t want to be a Manes man,” he said instead of answering.

“You’re not one.”

“So Dad said. It doesn’t seem to matter.”

Kyle thought about it. “Then let’s destroy that family legacy. Brick by brick.”

Alex smiled at that. “Brick by brick.”

Caulfield was shut down, however horribly. But there was still wherever Jesse Manes had kept the glowing alien console from Crash Con. There was still Deep Sky, and however Flint was connected to it. There was still Flint, who Alex wanted to save.

“Food first,” Kyle said. He had no idea when Alex had last eaten, but it hadn’t been recently. “We get food, we look at what we’ve got with fresh eyes.” He hesitated. “Tomorrow. We need sleep.” Step one: get Alex food. Step two: get Alex sleep. Step three: Figure out step three later. Whatever that took. Dismantling decades of their family’s conspiracies and legacies, he wanted to do that anyway. As for the rest, he didn’t know where to start. But Guerin might know more than him, annoyingly. Talking to Guerin? A better prospect than it would’ve been a few weeks ago. Getting Guerin to open up about his love life, though? He couldn’t even get the guy to admit why he didn’t want to file a patent.

Alex gave a tentative smile, and Kyle’s mind sighed, decided.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle goes to talk to Michael. Michael just wants to be left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos/comments! I love them so much! 
> 
> Again, the hardest part was trying to come up with a way to make Michael open up. Good thing he's a softie under all that grease, booze, and biting words. And exhausted. Poor Kyle. 
> 
> Fair warning, Michael's self-image is *terrible* in this chapter.

Michael had just finished his last car of the day when Valenti drove up. He sighed. Food, then lab: that was his plan for the day. Between the long day of manual labor and the long night of stretching his brain, maybe he’d get some sleep. With Valenti here, though, who knew where it would end up. He sighed again. No one had died, at least. They would’ve called for that. He’d probably be moving the body.

Murder. That was his bar. It was low.

He was so tired.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

“What, a guy can’t drop by?” Valenti asked, grinning.

Michael gave him a look.

“OK, fine. Alex and I have been going through things and I think we’re running in circles. Need an outside perspective.” His grin faded but there was a set in his jaw. He was lying through his teeth.

Michael kept looking. This time he raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like we can get an _actual_ outside perspective,” Valenti said, shrugging, looking away.

Michael shrugged, debating. He could throw Valenti to the curb, which would be fun. But he needed to know this shit, too, and he certainly didn’t want him going anywhere else. He nodded to a chair and went inside to grab a couple beers.

“Thought you weren’t drinking?” Valenti asked, focusing on what was in front of him for once.

“Not drinking too much. Beer only, and not in a bar.”

Valenti furrowed his brow.

“Whiskey’s easy to overserve. Beer, less so.” He didn’t mention anything about the bar. That was complicated.

Valenti shrugged.

Well, this was turning monosyllabic, and not in the normal way. “Do you have something new?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Valenti said, pulling out a few papers. The shifty look in his eyes was back.

Michael looked at the papers, felt the wind in his hair, and pointed to the lab. “Don’t want this flying away from us.”

“Yeah.”

They headed down and started talking. Something about Valenti’s body language seemed off, and Michael didn’t know what was causing it. A crease in his brow, a glance when he thought he wasn’t looking. It made Michael nervous. They kept going for an hour, looking at the information from new angles, coming up with different theories, even finding a few ways to test them. Finally, Michael snapped.

“OK, what is it?”

“What is what?”

Even if Michael hadn’t noticed anything leading up to this, the way Valenti’s eyes went to the ceiling would’ve cemented everything. He could lie; Michael knew he could. He lied to everyone about aliens, pretty effectively. But whatever this was, he wasn’t lying. Or, he wasn’t lying _well_. “Seriously?”

Valenti looked sideways this time.

“Remind me to play poker with you sometime.”

Valenti sighed. “I talked to Alex,” he started. “I guess, I feel like I’m missing big pieces.”

“Pieces of what?”

“Of you two.”

“Who, you? The high school homophobic ass missing pieces in the gay guy’s life? I’m shocked, truly.” If that’s what he was after, Michael had other things to do. He started packing things up.

“When did you two start?”

Michael stared at him. “Why does it matter?”

“I think it does,” Kyle said. “Or at least, it does to Alex.”

That made him stop. Of course it made him stop. Alex always tipped his world around. Every damn time. “It’s over,” he said, but even he heard the lack of fight in it.

“I just… There’s something in this,” Kyle said, gesturing to the papers, “and his dad that makes it about you. And not in the alien way, I don’t think.”

“And what way, do you think?” Michael kept the bite in his words. The doctor seemed earnest again. That look in his eyes he saw at the hospital, the stance, the set jaw. Michael could forcibly remove him, but that seemed to go against the whole ‘getting him on their side’ thing Iz wanted him to do. Michael suspected Iz was trying to manipulate him into having friends, but that wasn’t happening. Not with this guy. Not tonight. He just wanted to sleep. Better to just make him stop asking questions.

“I don’t know,” Kyle said honestly. “I just think if I know more, I can help him better.”

“You? Help him?” The bite was real, now. “That’s rich.” He didn’t expect such an immediate response, though.

“Look, that was twelve years ago, OK?” Kyle actually seemed mad now. “I was an idiot. I was wrong. I hurt him. I didn’t see what was right in front of my face. But that was _twelve years ago_. Are we holding each other to actions taken that long ago? Because I’m pretty sure you were covering up murders at that point.”

Michael couldn’t stop the bitter laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, between Jesse Manes, Noah, and Max, I’m still doing that.” He smirked. “I’m the one that moves the bodies.”

Valenti didn’t seem to have a response to that, so he changed tactics. “Bet you didn’t need supervision to talk to people then, either.”

“Didn’t have anyone that would supervise,” he said, hearing his voice get harsher.

“When did you and Alex happen?”

“Why?”

“Because some of your shit that you two never worked through is hurting Alex now and I’m sick of it!” Kyle shouted.

Michael stopped talking. He stopped breathing. The only sound in the room was Valenti’s breaths, getting more even as he gathered himself back together, and the fans.

“Look,” Kyle started again. “I’m not here to fight. I just… I want to help him. And at this point, maybe even you, too. Something went rotten in Denmark, and I just want to know what.”

“That play’s a tragedy,” Michael said.

“I’d like this not to be,” Kyle said.

More silence. “You can’t help,” Michael said, his voice barely a whisper. He didn’t even recognize it as his own.

“Conventional wisdom says I can’t help bring an alien back to life, either.” The attempt at humor died within the first few words, but Valenti finished anyway. “But we’re way past that.”

Michael didn’t trust Valenti. He didn’t like Valenti. He’d barely opened up about Alex to Isobel, he certainly hadn’t opened up to Max about him. He couldn’t open up to Liz or Maria about him, the former because she was focused on her breakup with Max and the latter for so many reasons. He felt like a pile of secrets wrapped in sarcasm and alcohol. He’d felt like this since Liz first found out, like one breath and this house of cards that was him would collapse and he wouldn’t be able to get back up. Then his mom died, exploded, and all his answers died, and Max died, and he didn’t just collapse, he dissolved. He held together the pieces he’d found only because Isobel needed a shoulder to cry on. She’d needed someone. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted her to hold him and hug him and let him cry out a decade of despair and two decades of pain, but he couldn’t do that to her. What if she thought it was her fault? It was no one’s fault but his.

Kyle was doing better. Being better. He’d helped Alex, he’d saved Max, he’d covered for him at Caulfield.

Kyle was here.

Michael was so tired.

And if what it took to help Alex was to open up to _Valenti_ , well, Michael had done worse.

“Senior year of high school,” he said, slipping onto a stool. His voice was raw.

“What happened?” Kyle sat.

“Usual story, I guess. Boy meets boy. They fall in love.”

Kyle was quiet a moment, struggling for words. “How?”

Michael smiled, a genuine smile, at the memory, which seemed to surprise Kyle. “I stole his guitar. He offered me a safe place to stay.” His voice broke on the word ‘safe.’ “We had to be careful, because of his dad.” He looked hard at Valenti. “You know enough to get that, right?”

Kyle gave a deep breath. “I didn’t then. I do now.”

Michael nodded. “He caught us, once.” He rubbed his left hand absentmindedly before holding it up. “It went poorly.” He heard more than saw the outrush of air as Kyle understood. “It was the same night Rosa died. I... What happened to Rosa… Our involvement… What came from it…” His voice caught and he cleared it, trying to add more volume. He wasn’t sure if Kyle was even hearing him. “I knew he thought it was his dad’s fault that I…” _broke_ , “changed my plans, but it wasn’t. I could see how he turned it into his fault, for offering me a place to stay. Because I couldn’t tell him the truth. How could I?” His voice was less than a whisper now.

He looked up at Kyle, whose face he couldn’t read. It wasn’t pity, though. He’d expected pity. He always expected pity.

But it wasn’t, and that helped him keep going, the words now coming with confidence. “Alex saw I wasn’t OK, and he gave me a safe space. His only one, as it turned out. His life was shit and he saw someone in trouble and he helped them. Me. Do you have any idea how many people offered sympathies, but did nothing? How many people turned a blind eye? How many people—” he broke off. “Alex knew what I needed more than anything, and gave it to me. It’s what he does. It’s _who_ he _is._ ” The words stopped, and silence fell again.

“And then he left,” Kyle said, understanding.

Michael closed his eyes. “He always came back,” he added softly. “But then, even after Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was repealed, we were never … out.”

“Maybe he was still worried about his dad.”

The bitterness came easily. “He wasn’t under Jesse Manes’ roof anymore. He was—is— a certifiable badass. He just, he always had to go.” Michael’s nostrils flared as he remembered every time he’d woken to an empty bed, every time he’d reached for Alex only for him not to be there. When he started again, his voice was wry. “It was just… a leave thing. When he got back, for good, I thought… I thought maybe we could have something, and we did, for a couple weeks. But any time we did anything _near_ public, or _nearly_ did anything _in_ public, he left. Eventually, I got the message. Good for a good lay, but nothing you’d admit to.”

Kyle was silent for a moment. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Michael had lost control of this conversation ages ago, but Kyle doubting something he knew in his heart snapped him out of it. “Please,” he said, plastering on his trademark smirk. “I’m a fantastic lay.”

“That’s not— You know that’s not what I meant.”

The smirk widened, almost of its own accord. “Oh? What’ve you heard?”

“Come on, Guerin.”

“Not my type, sorry.” Michael stood, getting his mask firmly back in place. “That what you wanted to know?”

Kyle stood, too. “I… don’t know.”

“Glad to be no help.”

“Have you talked to him recently?”

“Not without _supervision_.” The ire dripped off the last word. “Why?”

“Just something he said. I don’t think he even meant to say it.” Kyle hesitated. “When he came back, was it ever at your Airstream?”

The smirk dropped before Michael could catch it. “Never somewhere recognizable,” he said coldly. “Motels, mostly, out of town. I’d get a text, in the later years.” Deep breath.

Kyle hesitated again. “Why didn’t you ever say anything to him about it?”

Michael shrugged, feeling the truth come out even as he tried to stop it. “I did, once. Didn’t see him for two years after that one. And then— Didn’t want him to stop coming back.”

“Do you still love him?”

Michael lost control of his breathing. “Never stopped.” That fucking truth, escaping again. “He just wants to be friends.”

Kyle was silent a moment, trying to piece together a puzzle only he could see. “Why Maria?”

That’s a transition. “What about Maria?” Michael’s voice was getting harsher, he could feel it. “We’re talking about Alex.”

“Yeah, I just… after Alex, there was Maria.”

The air left Michael’s lungs, all fight gone. That was a way to phrase it, wasn’t it? It’s probably how Maria would phrase it too, and why she’d left him. He’d thought… But it didn’t matter. He could hide, he’d hidden his entire life, but he wasn’t very good at lying. Valenti wasn’t leaving without an answer. _If it’ll help Alex…_ He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, at the mismatched lights he’d strung there, and started talking. “I’d seen Maria at least once a week for over ten years. There were times I didn’t even see Max that often—sometimes I’d only see him when I was getting arrested. DeLuca was always, always there, with a ready ear and a heavy pour.” He breathed again. Kyle wanted to know why Maria, and not Alex. He hadn’t said as much, but he might as well have. _Because Alex wanted to be friends. Because Alex wanted him to be more than he was._ “She knew exactly who I was, not who I could be. She never looked at me with disappointment. Regret, definitely shame, but that’s nothing new. And that always disappears with the right grin.” He gave a lopsided grin, but lost it. “After Ma—after Cau— _after_ , I… shut down. I couldn’t talk about it. I still can’t even say the words. Maria couldn’t make me talk about it. She didn’t _know_ about it.” He’d lost control, now, and the words were tripping over each other coming out. “I couldn’t be the brother to Iz that Max was, I couldn’t be enough for Alex—I never was—but maybe I could be enough for Maria. She’s kind and she’s generous and she’s hot and we had an easy banter. Why not Maria?” _She’s Alex’s friend._ But Alex hadn’t said a word, had he? He’d been nothing but supportive. Alex had been over him, even before he’d come back from war. They might’ve had something leftover, but Michael didn’t have it in him to have one more person look at him with disappointment. Alex didn’t want him, not what was left of him, and Michael had to move on. He’d failed, but he’d tried. He’d tried _so hard_. For all their sakes. But it was never going to be enough— _he_ was never going to be enough. “And if I fucked it up, well, she’s a badass; she doesn’t need me.” His voice quieted. “And I knew she wouldn’t leave.”

Turns out, if someone genuinely listens, he goes off like a damn faucet. What the hell had happened to his mask? He’d thought it was back in place, but that word vomit—he’d said too much. He didn’t mean to say any of that. _She was amazing, and she’d accepted me,_ is all he’d meant to say. No one cares more than that. No one actually wants to _know_. All he’d meant to—

“What do you mean, not enough for Alex?” Kyle’s voice interrupted his internal haranguing. If Michael didn’t know any better, he’d say his voice was timid.

He was too tired for this. “He stopped loving me a long time ago. If I was good enough for him, he would’ve stayed when we were seventeen.” His head was so heavy. “But I was broken then, and I’m just… more broken now.”

“Are you sure?” Kyle was looking at him carefully.

“Pretty fucking sure.” Michael’s voice was sharp and ragged. “And he’s happy with Forrest. I’m not getting in the way of that. I’ve fucked up his life enough.” He concentrated a second. “Airstream’s out of the way if you want to let yourself out.” His tone made it clear it wasn’t a request.

Kyle looked like he was going to say something else, but turned instead. “Thank you,” he said as he started climbing the ladder.

Michael heard the metal clang of the door closing, gave Valenti a few moments to clear out, then focused on moving the Airstream back into place. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, in the way Alex had taught him that summer after high school. When he was losing control more often and couldn’t say why. Before Alex had looked at him with guilt. Before he had left. Before… before.

He shook his head to clear it, scrunched his nose and breathed in as a vain attempt to stop the feelings, and searched the workbench for his latest project. Food, then lab, that was the plan. Well, he was down here anyway, and he wasn’t ready to face the world just yet.

Besides, he was still used to missing meals.

Bet that would make Alex sad.

Disappointed.


End file.
